BOUND BY ONE NIGHT

Moonlight streamed through the tall windows of the Laurent mansion, bathing the luxurious estate in a soft silver glow. “Young Miss, Madam requires your presence.” The butler’s calm voice echoed gently down the hallway. Seraphina Laurent paused in front of her mirror. “Oh… I’m coming right away,” she replied softly. As the second twin, she had always lived in the shadow of her sister, Celeste — the A-list actress of A City, the media’s darling, and the undeniable pride of the Laurent family. Their elder brother, Vincent, was the composed and brilliant CFO of Laurent Enterprises. And Cole, the eldest, was the powerful heir. Seraphina? To them, she was simply a fashion designer — nothing more. A silver dress lay across her bed. For a long moment, she simply stared at it. It wasn’t just a gown. It was perfection stitched into silk. She slipped out of her robe slowly, her fingers brushing over the cool fabric before lifting it carefully. The satin felt smooth and weightless as she stepped into it, drawing it up her legs inch by inch. The material glided over her skin, cool at first, then warming to her touch. When she pulled it over her hips, it hugged her figure perfectly. Seraphina and Celeste were identical twins — the same strawberry-blonde hair, the same delicate bone structure. But there was one crucial difference: Seraphina’s hazel eyes held warmth and quiet depth, while Celeste’s emerald green eyes glimmered with calculation and charm. Seraphina arranged her curly strawberry-blonde hair into soft waves that fell gracefully over one shoulder. A delicate diamond bracelet rested on her wrist. The mirror reflected a goddess. Pale, flawless skin. Hazel eyes shimmering softly under light makeup. Pouty pink lips now painted a bold red. For once, she didn’t look invisible. Click. Click. Her heels echoed softly as she descended the grand staircase. “Oh, there you are,” Mrs. Laurent said coolly from the living room. “Tonight is an important night for your sister’s career. She was meant to attend the gala, but she caught the flu. And don’t bother changing your dress — it is perfect for the occasion.” “Sneeze—!” Celeste dramatically dabbed her nose with a silk handkerchief. Even sick, she looked like a star. Unlike Seraphina’s quiet elegance, Celeste’s beauty was dazzling and attention-grabbing. Her figure was slim yet curvy in all the right places — the kind that designers built entire dresses around. Her long strawberry-blonde hair cascaded down her back in perfect waves, framing a face almost identical to Seraphina’s. Almost. Because Celeste’s emerald eyes always held calculation behind their shine. “Elena—” she corrected lazily before smirking. “Sorry. Seraphina. You’ll take my place tonight. I have a cold.” Seraphina’s hands clenched slightly at her sides. “Mother… you want me to replace Celeste tonight at the gala?” Celeste rolled her eyes and stepped closer, leaning in until only Seraphina could hear. “You know I’m an A-list actress, not a struggling fashion designer like you,” she whispered coldly. “My fans need me. I can’t be seen looking unwell. So you’ll go tonight. Smile. Pretend. Don’t embarrass me. You know whose side Mother and Father will take.” Her lips curved faintly. Then Celeste handed her a small white box. Inside were emerald contact lenses. “And one more thing,” Celeste added softly. “Alexander is off limits. He’s my boyfriend. I know you wouldn’t dare.” Seraphina swallowed. “Take care, little sister.” Celeste returned to the couch as if nothing had happened. Mrs. Laurent signaled the chauffeur. “Escort her.” The city lights blurred past as the car drove toward Sinclair Hall. Seraphina stared out the window quietly, watching the night skyline of A City. VROOOOM— A loud screech tore through the silence as the car’s tires scraped against the asphalt. The door opened. Seraphina inhaled slowly. Then stepped out. The moment her Louboutin heel touched the red carpet, chaos erupted. “Celeste! Over here!” “Celeste! Look this way!” “Celeste, is it true about the new film?!” Flashes exploded like lightning. Cameras clicked relentlessly. She froze for half a second. Celeste. Of course. Her twin — the family’s golden star — was supposed to be here. Seraphina straightened her spine. The silver gown shimmered under the lights like liquid metal. If they wanted Celeste… they would have to settle for her reflection. “Are you excited about the premiere of Midnight Obsession?” a reporter shouted. Midnight Obsession? Her stomach tightened. New movie? She forced a polite smile. Inside, irritation burned. Since when? That spoiled brat couldn’t even send a text? Or did she want her exposed… turned into the internet’s laughingstock? The cameras continued flashing. “Is it true Alexander Sinclair funded the production?” Her pulse skipped. Alexander Sinclair. The Ice King of A City. She maintained a calm smile. Behind her, Sinclair Hall & Hotel towered into the sky — a masterpiece of glass and steel reflecting the city lights. And she was walking into it… pretending to be someone else. Security guided her inside. Warm golden light spilled over her skin as the doors opened. The ballroom glittered with wealth: politicians, CEOs, celebrities. Large posters of Midnight Obsession lined the walls. Across the far wall, in elegant silver lettering: Sinclair Holdings Annual Charity Gala & Film Premiere Then— The media erupted again. “Mr. Sinclair!” “Alexander! This way!” “Ice King!” The atmosphere shifted instantly. Power had arrived. Seraphina felt it before she saw him. A chill traced slowly down her spine. Slowly… she turned. And there he was. Alexander Sinclair. Tall. Dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo and polished black shoes. His crisp white shirt sharpened the angles of his jaw. His dark hair was sleek and perfectly styled. Every step radiated authority. His presence alone seemed to quiet the room. Strong jaw. Firm, unsmiling lips. Silver-gray eyes colder than winter steel. Heat rushed to Seraphina’s cheeks. Her heart pounded violently. Why am I nervous? She wasn’t Celeste. Alexander’s gaze swept across the crowd with detached indifference— Until it stopped. On her. Time slowed. The noise faded into silence. His silver-gray eyes locked with hers across the ballroom. And for one suspended heartbeat— The Ice King looked directly at her. The sound of the gala slowly returned. Seraphina exhaled shakily. Her nerves were spiraling. She signaled a passing waiter. “Champagne.” One glass. Then another. Then another. The golden liquid burned slightly as it slid down her throat, warming her chest and loosening the tight coil of anxiety inside her. She had never drunk this much in her twenty-three years of life. But tonight demanded something stronger than courage. Five glasses later, her cheeks were flushed. Six… and the world felt softer at the edges. Yet her thoughts kept drifting back to him. Alexander. Why was he still on her mind? “Miss Laurent?” She blinked, slightly unfocused. A well-dressed man stood before her, expression polite but serious. “I’m Louis, Mr. Sinclair’s personal assistant.” Her pulse stumbled. “Yes?” “Mr. Sinclair requires your assistance upstairs.” Upstairs? Her brows furrowed slightly. “My assistance… with what?” “I’m afraid it’s urgent, Miss Laurent.” The champagne made her thoughts hazy, but curiosity — and something far more dangerous — pushed her forward. She nodded. Louis guided her toward the private elevator reserved for the upper floors of Sinclair Hall. As the doors slid shut, her reflection stared back at her in the mirrored walls — flushed cheeks, slightly parted lips, hazel eyes brighter than usual. The elevator chimed softly. Presidential Suite. Her stomach fluttered nervously. Why would he need Celeste… alone? The doors opened to a quiet, luxurious corridor lined with plush carpets and golden wall sconces. Louis led her into the suite. The room was vast and elegant, a crystal decanter resting on a glass table. And then she saw him. Alexander Sinclair sat on the couch. Shirtless.